


The Glitch King And The Moody Bitch

by HMSquared



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anti in a suit, Bus, Classy Anti, Cliffhangers, Cufflinks, Darkiplier VS Antisepticeye, Evil Plans, Grief/Mourning, Harm to Animals, Insanity, Inspired by Art, Lots and lots of YouTubers get murdered, Murder, Person of Interest Reference, Personality Swap, Post-Canon, Suit Shopping, Surgery, Suspicions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/HMSquared
Summary: In the aftermath of Dark Chica's attack, Dark and Anti find themselves in each other's shoes.





	1. Anti

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lovely artist on YouTube named ruebharb who does YouTuber fanart and animations. She's done a couple "Drawing Your Comments," and one of the prompts in the first one was clothing swapped Anti and Dark, hence this story.
> 
> I would like to point out in this one that Dark and Anti have swapped personalities, not bodies. They are still in their own bodies, just acting like each other. Originally I was going to do a full-on body swap, but I already have a fic idea for that. ;)
> 
> Oh, and the title is a swap of Dark and Anti's nicknames. Dark is the "glitch king" (Anti glitches and Mark is the King of FNaF) and Anti is the "moody bitch" (Dark is brooding and we all know why Anti is the bitch).
> 
> Enjoy!

Anti woke up with a splitting headache. He was still in the void Dark called home, and for some reason, they had both managed to survive. Well, he had survived, at least; for all Anti knew, Dark was still getting destroyed by Chica.

Standing here now, pacing, he suddenly realized how calming the void was. Silent, free from Jack and the other egos...why hadn't he seen it before? Shaking his head, Anti looked down at his clothes and scoffed. Why was he wearing such horrible threads? And the scar on his neck...

A sudden idea came to him. Raising a lone finger to his throat, a small smile appeared on Anti's face. Good thing he knew the best surgeon in town.

 

Schneep was working in his office when a fist knocked on the door. Turning, expecting to see Jack or JJ, he was instead greeted by Anti, who looked tired.

"Anti?" The doctor's eyes fluttered to the blood on his collar. "Are you alright? Jack's been worried about you all day!"

"I'm fine, Doctor." For once, there was no mocking when he said that name. For once, Anti was actually calm and didn't look like he was about to murder the good doctor right now. "Although, I do need a favor."

"Oh?" Schneep rose an eyebrow in suspicion. "And what could you possibly need from me, Anti?" Smiling, Anti pointed to his throat.

"I know I'm the one who caused this scar, but I was hoping you could...stitch me up." Schneep was flabberghasted; for the past year he had done nothing but cause havoc, using his scar as a banner of attention, and now he wanted it gone?

"What's the catch? You going to murder me as soon as I start?" To Schneep's surprise, Anti laughed and shook his head.

"All I want is a simple patch job from the best surgeon I know. Is that really so hard to ask?" Sighing, the doctor decided it was better to go with the demon's task and worry about possible consequences later.

"Alright, Anti, I'll do it." A small smile appeared on his face as he settled into the chair and Schneep prepared for surgery. "But I must warn you, this will be very painful, even for you. This scar was never meant to be closed...there could be blood loss."

"Just try not to get it on my clothes, doctor," Anti snapped as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Aaannd things were back to normal...sort of.

 

The surgery was indeed painful, mostly because Anti remained awake for the whole thing (his choice, not Schneep's). Finally, after two hours, his throat was sealed, he thanked the doctor, then strolled out of his office. Now for the next item on his list: clothing.

There was a suit shop downtown, one Jack had been to a couple of times. Anti took the bus, suddenly feeling rejuvenated. It occurred to him that he hadn't heard from Dark, which no longer mattered. As far as he was concerned, the glitch king (Anti was only calling him that due to Mark's status) could rot.

Finally, after twenty minutes, he got off the bus and strolled in. A young African-American man was behind the counter, instantly stepping out from behind it when Anti entered. Eyes widening, he said (in a genuine American accent),

"Mr... Jacksepticeye?" Hearing that name made Anti's blood boil, but he ignored it, fixing a smile on his face.

"Yes, and you are?" The man looked a little stunned, but replied,

"Chad." Anti shook his hand a little too forcefully, then said chipperly,

"I'm in the market for a new suit." They started over to a rack as he spoke, shoes thumping against the carpet. "Something...classy, but appropriate for the daytime."

"Classing up your look, are we?" Chad chuckled.

"Something like that," Anti replied smoothly. He was falling into a wonderful new rhythm, and as they browsed coat options, he questioned why this hadn't happened sooner.

 

The suit they finally decided on was black with a white top; standing in the mirror, Anti thought he looked like John Reese from Person of Interest. Paying Chad, he left the store and sat down on a bench to wait for the bus.

He had two cufflinks: one red, one blue. Since he had a few minutes to spare, Anti put them on: red on his left wrist, blue on his right. By the time he was finished, the bus had pulled up and he was ready to head home.

Once he got home, Anti quietly opened the front door and was greeted with a note on the kitchen table.

_Anti-_

_The other egos and I are off to a movie, and Jack is grocery shopping. Don't murder anybody!_

_-Schneep_

Hah! Like he'd murder anyone without tearing their emotions to shreds first. Hands in his pockets, Anti strolled around the house, taking advantage of the quiet.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and frowned. It was a lovely reflection, except for one thing: the green hair. After two years, he could surpass Jack in something. Closing his eyes, Anti cracked his neck and smiled as his hair turned back to natural brown.

"Anti?" The demon jumped; lost in his own world, he hadn't heard the door open. Jack was standing in the opening to the hallway staring, arms full of groceries. His eyes widened when Anti turned to face him and said quietly, "You look like Dark."

"Do I?" Anti didn't see the resemblance. Seeing the look in Jack's eyes, he snapped, "Just because my style's changed doesn't mean I'm all soft now, Jackie." Aaannd, once again, everything is normal.


	2. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say, animal lovers won't like the beginning of this chapter...
> 
> Also, these chapters are taking place at the same time, so while Anti is off buying a suit, Dark is...well, you'll see soon enough.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dark woke up in the spot he had gone to sleep in: the bathroom. His head was pounding, and a quick examination revealed his throat was bleeding. It was amazing he was still breathing, really.

Grabbing a towel, Dark pressed it to his throat and cursed under his breath. After a minute or two, the cursing turned to hushed, but crazed laughter. Boy, was he angry.

It would have been the final battle to end all final battles, and then those impotent souls had shown up and ruined everything. Oh, how sweet revenge would be.

Dark suddenly realized how hot his coat was, and not in a good way. Throwing it off, a growl rising in his throat, he shook his head. He felt foggy, not like himself...one could say losing control.

 

Feeling peckish, he headed out to the kitchen for a sandwich. Slapping on a few tomato slices, Dark began to cut the bread when he heard footsteps. Chica's footsteps.

Mark's lovable dog had entered the room. Shooting her a look of anger, Dark got back to work, adding cheese to his creation. However, in his quest to avoid the fridge, he had made a grave error.

His elbow shot out and hit the salami container, sending it to the floor. Ears perking up, Chica rushed over and began to eat, a huge smile on her face. Dark wanted so badly to pull her away, and the day before, he might have. But now he was angry, and there was a knife nearby. Picking it up, he started toward the canine.

 

Dark didn't even bother to move her. Tyler and Ethan were coming over later and would probably find Chica, if Mark didn't smell her first. In the meantime, he had other work to do.

The first thing on the docket was burning his suit. It was all in a metal bucket, and though Dark could easily let the void do his job for him, he was in the mood for chaos. Putting a lighter in his pocket, he peeled the gate open and stepped forward.

Sadly, Anti was nowhere to be found. This disappointed Dark, but it was ultimately for the best: he couldn't get distracted by such idiotic things. So instead he dragged the metal bucket into the center and peeled off his clothes, tossing them in. Standing there, completely naked without an ounce of self-consciousness, he flicked the lighter and tossed it in. Someone, probably Warfstache, had given it to him, but at this point, he couldn't remember.

As the flames burned, consuming his jacket and old memories, Dark closed his eyes. The void made its way around his body and molded to his shape, producing a shirt, jeans, and sneakers, all the color of death. He didn't move as the flames continued to rise, swallowing up the darkness and ejecting him out into real life.

Dark was back in the bathroom, the door locked. A quick check of his watch told him Mark was finally getting out of bed; oh, what a lovely surprise he had waiting for him.

Pressing an ear against the door, he heard Mark's bedroom door open, followed by the sound of footsteps. His former host muttered,

"Okay, gotta get some breakfast and...what's that smell?" More footsteps, quicker now. Then Dark lept back, biting his lip in elation as Mark let out an anguished scream. Unintelligible words fluttered out of his mouth until, at last, he shouted, "DARK! GET IN HERE!" But Dark was already gone, having left through the bathroom window.

 

With each murder, Dark's insanity only grew. With each kill his smile widened, laughing with glee as the YouTubers involved in Mark and Jack's silly skit begged for mercy. None of them got it, of course, but it was so fun moving to help them up, only to pull away. By the time he had slain Brizzy, Dark wondered why this hadn't happened years ago.

He also wondered what Anti would think. Knowing him, that moody bitch would probably plot revenge (in reality, Anti had stopped hunting for opportunities the minute had woken up). Spinning his knife between his fingers, Dark considered what to do next.

As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't kill Mark. The man was responsible for his existence, after all, and ending him would only result in death. But standing there, blood dripping, an idea literally slapped Dark in the face.

The scar on his neck was throbbing, and he rose a hand to it. Closing his eyes to silence the pain, he suddenly remembered Anti popping into existence. Yes, that could work. They wouldn't use pumpkins (too obvious), but Dark would think of something. And then, finally, Mark would be his...forever...


End file.
